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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899564">the dragon's maw</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats'>4wholecats</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Horace's land gets invaded by Dolhr and he has a very bad day :(, Pre-Shadow Dragon, Prompt: forced to their knees/manhandled, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:42:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dolhr didn’t trust Horace.<br/>In all fairness, this was reasonable. They were a conquering army. He was an enemy general. Things weren’t bound to work out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the dragon's maw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>horace! in! feh! please!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dolhr didn’t trust Horace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all fairness, this was reasonable. They were a conquering army. He was an enemy general. Things weren’t bound to work out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a miracle, Horace thought to himself, that he was even allowed to remain alive, given the tales he had heard of the dragon army’s destructive crusade through the continent. Were they being so generous with the rest of Archanea’s nobility? Or was this some sort of cruel joke? He was fairly sure that he was being made an example of, but to who?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone walked past his door, and Horace tensed until the footsteps faded. They were leaving him be, at least for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The invading army had wasted no time making themselves comfortable in the area, taking over villager’s homes and raiding their supply stocks. Or at least, that’s what Horace assumed they were doing. He hadn’t been outside in two weeks, and was starting to go just a bit mad. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good…” The dragon sneered, grinning at Horace with it’s rows of sharp, blood coated teeth. The little girl, trapped under its claws, gasped and whimpered, a line of red trickling into the grass from where the beast had grazed her. A threat. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Horace let his lance fall to the ground, and it clattered against the stone of the road in a cloud of dust. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I surrender,” he repeated, quieter this time, holding up his hands in front of him and stepping back from the beast and it’s prey.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The manakete stood, swiping away the girl as if she was nothing more than a leaf caught between its toes. It was close enough that he could feel it’s hot breath on his face, and hear the subtle growls that came with every breath. It appraised him with one large golden eye, and the General was ashamed to see that his reflection looked just as beaten down as he felt in that moment. The dragon then turned to its men; a collection of fellow beasts and their human pets, and barked something in a foreign, rasping tongue. Two of the humans in the crowd approached, weapons drawn. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, so it wouldn’t be the dragon that kills him. He was too insignificant for that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The first man, a balding man with a heavy axe, wrenched his shield away, tossing it aside into the grass along the road. Out of the corner of his eye, Horace saw the little girl from before jump at the noise, crawling away from the bloodthirsty crowd back towards the village. A few of the humans looked her way, but none made to follow her. The relief only lasted a moment, because the second man, a wiry fellow with a patchy beard, pressed a blade against Horace’s throat.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Armor off.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With a shaking hand, he fumbled with the buckles of his pauldrons. One by one, the heavy plates thudded to the ground, and were kicked away by the slave men. They didn’t stop until he stood there, thankfully clothed but woefully unprotected, with fists clenched at his sides and eyes gazing at the hole in the bushes where the girl had disappeared. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The dragon approached again, and as it did so, one of the men delivered a hard kick to the back of Horace’s left knee. He slumped to the ground, bones groaning in complaint as they hit the dirt. The larger slave yanked him into a kneeling position by the collar of his arming doublet. The dragon’s face was close enough to spit on, had he the guts to do it. Ah, how could he have been so foolish? Eating all that metal can’t be good for a dragon’s health. But the approach was not accompanied with a final vision of teeth closing around his head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You should consider yourself lucky…” the beast spoke in a low tone, quiet enough that it wouldn’t be heard by the soldiers that remained behind him. “We will have uses for you yet.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t ask what it meant by that. He was too busy reeling from sudden pain as something very hard collided with the back of his head, making sparks and bubbles of white dance across his vision. The hand holding his clothing let go, and he flopped to the side, curling slightly in an effort to defend himself from whatever was attacking from behind. The two men were arguing and snapping at each other, the large one holding the flat of his axe aloft with a confused look on his face while his companion berated him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A failed knockout hit. The bald man raised the pommel of his weapon again, and Horace stuck out a weak arm in an attempt to deflect. The other slave beat him to it, grabbing his companion’s arm before he could strike again, shouting angrily. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Horace’s vision swam as he felt hands roughly pull him to his feet, the axe forgotten in the dirt somewhere out of reach. There was the feeling of rope dragging against the skin of his wrists, tied uncomfortably tight behind his back. The larger man spun him around, back towards the road to his house, and shoved him forwards. The knight took a few steps before another rough push sent his sense of balance back into disarray, causing him to stumble. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>More grunts from behind. He didn’t know if they were speaking Dolhran or Archanean; a thick layer of white noise had invaded his hearing, accompanied by the rapid beating of his heart in his ears. The sensation of more hands grabbing at him, roughly steadying him into standing still. Then, the world literally turned upside down as a shoulder connected with his stomach; the large bald man hauling him over his shoulder like a particularly defeated looking sack of flour. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Horace wanted to say that he didn’t struggle because of the conditions of his surrender. As long as he obeyed, the villagers would be fine. And that was part of it. A big part. But as he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of massive beasts taking to the sky once again, the dizziness caused his body to go limp. There was nothing he could do now. He had failed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>These thoughts, interrupted by the odd spike of pain or angry shout, were the only thing that kept his grip on reality firm as the party made their way to… well, Horace assumed they would be going to his estate. Estate was a bit of a misnomer on his father’s part… The building was a fortress, or it had been at one point, before it was converted into a living space for the area’s nobility. A very strategic place to set up camp for the time being, especially if you were an invading army. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t even notice that they had entered the building until he was tossed to the ground. He gasped as he tried to regain his bearings, reeling from the sudden change in orientation. This wasn’t the dungeons; just one of the small rooms set aside for guests. As far as being a prisoner in his own home goes, it could be worse…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The most painful, infuriating thing about this whole ordeal was that the door remained unlocked. He tried the knob, about three days into his isolation, out of curiosity. Simply checking wouldn’t be enough to anger the dragons into harming the villagers, would it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One step out into the hallway, only to be roughly shoved back in by a clawed hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get back in there, scum. Our lack of keys doesn’t prevent us from making you stay put.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, all these soldiers in one place, and yet no one could find the keyring. One of the servants must have fled with it, or died with it. The knowledge that freedom was in his grasp, yet so far out of reach would torture him. Maybe even drive him mad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is why, two weeks later, when a soldier threw the repaired pieces of Horace’s armor inside the little room and demanded he prepare for battle, the knight almost felt relieved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The avenging army had arrived.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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